Happy Hell Wedding
by Damned Lolita
Summary: [Sequel to Semiotic Love] Harley and Cacturne just want to get married. But there's a few problems along the way. Harley needs an outfit, Cacturne needs a break, Brendan Birch needs more screentime, and everything else is going to hell. As usual.
1. Amy's never coming to Hoenn, you know

(Because. I said I'd write a sequel, and so I did. This features a major time-skip. Both Harley and Cacturne are about 23-24. Why? You'll see in about five seconds... don't own. I know it's short, but this might be about five or four chapters, so don't worry, you'll be buried in fluff soon enough. ...Holy crap that rhymes.

The Damned One out. )

He asked me to marry him. He said he didn't care we were both men, that I had been a pokemon, or any shit people might say. He loved me, and that was that.

What else could I say but yes?

I must explain. My name is Cacturne. Yes, like the pokemon. Why? Because I was a Cacturne, once. Harley Davidson's esteemed partner, and well... a pokemon. That was in love with their trainer.

However, thanks to a Drunken Mew (TM!), Harley got turned into a fatass Cacturne, and got captured. So I went right after him, and ripped the trainer in two for daring to lay a hand on my beloved.

Well, his pokemon killed him, but that's another story. I should say my pokemon, they agreed to be with me after all this happened. Yeah, I'll back up. The drunken Mew, Vita, came back, and agreed to turn Harley back— and turn me into a human in the bargain.

So we lived happily ever after.

Or we would, if Harley could find an outfit, we could actually find someone to marry us that Wigglytuff didn't attack on sight, and we could get his mom off our backs.

So, yeah, we're screwed.

"Cacturne! Hey, fatass!" Harley drawls, waltzing into the house. He slams the door with his hip, and I raise an eyebrow. "Dear, I should think that hurts." He slaps a hand on his hips.

"Sweetie, I have rock hard hips. Suck it." He cracks, thrusting a hip in my direction. I roll my eyes. "You're a terrible flirt." He pads to the kitchen, and he calls, "I don't have to flirt to get you in—" Oh crap, door's open.

It can be one of two people; May, or Sarah, Harley's mom. I hope it's May. At least I'd get a break. But no break. "Harley!" She hugs him tightly. "How are the flowers coming along, dear?" He winces.

"Well, I asked Drew. He said Roselia's more than enough." She tsks, and flicks his forehead. "Silly boy. We can order a bit better." He sighs. "But mooooommmm, we don't need better. We have a junkie Roselia."

He retraces his words, and deduces from the horrified expression on Sarah's face that this may have not been the best thing to say to his overbearing mother. "Harley, just _who _are you hanging out with?!" Her voice rose to a fever pitch.

Well, at least I know where he gets his high-pitched scream from.

Sighing, I shoved my face into a random book on serial killers.

It must be Wigglytuff's. As the two have a heated argument, I hear a knock on the door. And another knock. I sigh. "Come _in, _May!" A coffee-haired brat of about twenty bounds in. "Hello, guys! Oh, hey Sarah." She pats me on the head, and goes to break up the fight. "Drew! DREW!" May's shoe goes sailing right into the boy's bright minty green hair. I actually put down the book, and stared.

What. The. Hell.

Evidently, Harley echoes my sentiments. "May, what did you just do?!" Oh thank god, there's some _sanity_ here—

"You use _boots _to throw at people, not some shitty strappy shoe!" He simpers, waving his own heeled shoe in her face. I just put my head in my hands, and pretend they'll all go away.

And lo and behold, now we have Wigglytuff, stage right. "Fuck me..." I groan. Harley raises an eyebrow, but before he can make a comeback, (which he's obviously dying to do), Wigglytuff yells, _"HEY! BITCHES! I FOUND A WEDDING HALL!_!" Harley and I both gape in surprise.

"I should think you'd kill the preacher." He says incredulously. Wigglytuff shoves what looks to be a butcher knife in his pocket, and nods feverently. "_No, of course not! You know I'd never do that_!" I translate all this for the others. We all stare at him.

"A moment of silence for the preacher man." I say solemnly.

"_Fuck you all." _

After our moment of silence, Banette floats in, and enscribes something on his list. "_So, about half of Slateport down, another good thousand or so to go_." He says sarcastically. Wigglytuff flips him off, and the two begin a heated argument. Harley just stares for a second. Then he turns to May.

"Beautifly with you?" She nods. "Please have her use Sleep Powder, or I think I will kill myself." Drew clicks his tongue.

"And get all that blood on this nice carpet?" Harley and I look at each other guilty. "Uh... define _nice._" Drew puts his head in his hands, and May just looks confused. "What? What do you guys mean?" Even the pokemon are staring by now.

"Moving the fuck on, since I do not want to think of that, did you organize this reception, or what?!" Kya the Jolteon snaps. Kya is one of the five that I rescued from Dominic, along with Ducis the Gyarados, Ru the Sandslash, Giira the Golem, and Hiru the Vibrava. So, it's about ten pokemon, two boys, and May, Drew, and Sarah all in and out.

Why doesn't someone just kill me?

Wigglytuff is being restrained by Octillery's tentacles, and everyone is yelling, and waving their hands as if we're all in an Italian soap opera. I sigh, and stand on a chair.

"WIGGLYTUFF, IF YOU DON'T SHUT THE FUCK UP, I AM BURNING YOUR AMY WINEHOUSE TICKETS!!!" I roar at the top of my lungs. Immediately, he shuts up. I don't have the heart to tell him she canceled all her tour dates. (1)

Or that she would probably never play in Hoenn.

Getting back on track, May pipes up, "What about clothing?" Harley's eyes light up, and I groan. "SHOPPING!!" I put my head in my hands as he races towards the bedroom door, crashes into it, swears, cries, and attempts to open it.

Again, I don't have the heart to tell him it's the pantry.

Oh, well, he's gonna find out soon enough.

(So, was it terrible? Pointless, maybe, but it's the first chapter, and the first humor fic I've ever written. So sue me. 1: She DID!!! WAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! Okay, mourning over.)


	2. DRUNKEN SKY KITTEN, WE SUMMON THEE!

(You'll be buried in fluff soon enough. ...Holy crap that rhymes. Don't own.

The Damned One out. )

He found out. It took him twenty minutes, but he found out.

As we headed to the shopping boutique, I see May and Harley deep in conversation, meaning I am so screwed. How did I get dragged along into this fiasco? I'd wear fuckin' jeans to this wedding if Harley would let me. But _**no, **_I have to wear a tux.

Have you ever worn one? They're goddamn uncomfortable. Because I bitched about this, now Harley wants to wear a dress instead.

Don't laugh, I'm serious. In a light shade of lavender to match his hair.

I think that sometimes, I really should've dyed his hair a normal color. Like black or something. Would've saved us the trouble of dragging our asses out to the mall. But not caring, Harley is like a kid in a candy store.

Wait, scratch that. He's like a kid on _crack _in a candy store.

"I want that!! No, wait, it sucks! Want THAT! Cacturnnee, help me! I don't know what to wear!" He wails, clutching at some dress fabric. I roll my eyes.

"I am going to go look at books. You're on your own." As I storm off, May grabs the fabric of my shirt.

"Like fuck you are. If I have to suffer, you all have to suffer with me." She growls, and from the look on her face, I don't want to disagree.

"Misery loves company." I mutter angrily. In amusement, I watch Harley buy what must be about fifteen dresses, and storms back over to us, a living example of the fairy tale involving fifty-something mattresses, and a pea.

"You know, we only need one dress." I remind him. He shrugs. "This is just to sew together. I'm gonna hack these all up." I get a sudden, nightmarish vision of Harley, resplendent in a dress right out of Sally's closet.

He seems to read my mind, (or my horrified face), and says calmly, "If you want, you can go as Jack." That does it.

"Oh, hell. We're going home." I mutter angrily, storming off. Harley rolls his eyes. "_Someone _needs to get laid."

"Wonderful." I hiss angrily. "I'll hire a prostitute." He looks hurt. "What's wrong, Cacturne? You're getting me worried... did I do something wrong?" I shake my head.

"No. No, you didn't. I'm just on edge." And even though I know this is one of the stupidest things I could do in public, I hold him gently, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet.

"No, it's never your fault, Harley." He grins, and hugs back. I hear angry mutterings of 'faggots', like I always hear.

I don't care. It didn't matter anymore. I had him now, and that was enough. I clutched his hand as we walked home, giving the finger with my other hand to anyone who grimaced or stared. Harley rolled his eyes. "That's not nice." He joked, flicking me on the nose, laughing. I rolled my eyes.

"Izabe Island, Grand Festival... May I go on?" He growls playfully. "Fuck you." I groan, and unclasp my hand from his to wave it in the air. It's the best way to make a point.

"Darling, so long as we don't do it in the street, like the commoners." This time, May and Drew crack up, and Sarah just frowns. "Harley, you'll be at the hall bright and early tomorrow for decorating, I assume?" He shrugs.

"Yeah, okay." She hugs him, and a bit more hesitantly, hugs me, before heading in the opposite direction. Harley turns to me, his voice grim.

"Set the alarm for noon tomorrow." I suddenly find myself laughing at the stupidest of jokes, clutching his arm for support. He raises an eyebrow.

"Okay... maybe you do need to get laid." Once we are home, at peace, no one there... well, except for the pokemon, and, well, they're not doing much to support the idea of peace and quiet.

"_We only said goodbye with words... I died a hundred times... you go back to her, and I go...back...to...black..." _Wigglytuff is curled up next to the stereo, sobbing.

"_Go, Amy! You tell it like it is!" _He roars, pumping a fist in the air. Kya is an electric junkie, as always, and is shoving her little needles into the electric sockets. Ducis watches this quietly, curled up in a good half of the bathroom. He's got the tub, the bastard.

Ru is watching the TV. Not a show, just the TV. Yeah. "What the hell are you doing that for?" I ask him. He shrugs. "_I can see my face in the TV." _I back away.

"You have fun with that." Harley snorts. "Banette! Where'd my dresses go?!" He yells. The ghost puppet grins sheepishly, a piece of fabric stuck in his zipper-teeth-whatever-they-are.

"_Funny you would mention that..." _He throws a shoe at Banette, but being a ghost, it passes through. "Fuck. Okay, plan B!" He just sits on the couch, and wails. "WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" I want to kill him.

"Hiru! Use that vibraty-thing!" I shriek at him. He shrugs, and beats his wings, effectively drowning Harley out. I sigh peacefully, and flop onto the bed, and pretend this day never happened.

I open a bleary eye the next morning, and note everything has gone to hell. Oh, damn. Not this again... Harley has forced the dresses out of Banette, (don't ask me how), and is now busily sewing.

Giira is being used as Ducis' basketball. Well, at least no one's broken a window yet... please, god, don't let a window break. Hiru, Kya, and Ru are all biting the raw meat on the counter like little cannibals.

I sigh, and make coffee. "Christ, I just want to sleep." Harley's behind me. Surprised, I jump, banging my head on the counter. "Ow. Harley!" I scold him. He pouts.

"I sawwy. Wanna kiss?" I roll my eyes, as he gives my head a quick kiss. "You're the worst." He grins, steals MY coffee, and waltzes out.

"We have to go, luv!" I don't notice he's drank my coffee until it's too late. "You sonofabitch!" I shriek, and throw my shoe at him.

Drew ducks this time, and it hits May in the face. She slaps Drew twice before declaring that he's a complete bastard. As usual.

"_Someone needs to declare those things lethal weapons_." Ariados observes. Octillery rolls his eyes.

"_Excuse me, Mr. Poison-Pants!" _Ariados roars, and tackles him, tying up his tentacles, and dragging him off in a cocoon towards the hall. I raise an eyebrow, but decide to say nothing.

I might just start screaming.

Drew and May end up getting there first, and are already there decorating. I raise an eyebrow. "Well, screw this." I rush out, back to the house, and grab a few cans of Silly String.

"STRING WAR!!" I shriek, opening the cans, and spraying neon-colored strings everywhere. Everyone takes a moment to catch on, but they all eventually grab a can of string, and it escalates into an all-out war.

Wigglytuff whacks Octillery over the head with a can, and presses the button, effectively coating the octopus pokemon in hot pink foam. I roll my eyes, and peg Harley with it, spraying green foam into his hair.

"SWEET JESUS, WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!!" Harley roars, scraping at his hair like it's on fire. "MY HAAAAAAIIIIIIRRRRR!!!!" He shrieks. Everyone stops to stare at what is a completely normal scene, yet still oddly creepy.

"CACTURNE, I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!" He swears, and points a finger at me.

"_Dumbass. It's dissolving_." Banette hisses. He pats his head maniacally. "Oh. Okay, we're good!"

Evidently, not good.

"What on earth did you _do?!" _Oh, crap, Sarah. "For the love of Mew, did you ruin this?!" I gaze at the Silly String coating the walls.

"We improved it." Harley chirps. She sighs. "Well, whatever. It's your wedding." She doesn't look too pleased, however. Who would?

Well, us. But we're crazy.

Drew checks the calendar on the wall. "Well, if we actually want to get something productive done, we've got to hurry. This thing's in a week. And we still need a cake."

Harley clasps his hands happily. "No problem! I'll make it!" Kya rolls her eyes. _"Then I do believe we've got a fucking problem."_

I crack up. "It's true, but you'll make him feel bad." She nods, but before I can insult him further, Harley is out the door, heading to go get the cake materials.

"Right, while he fucks that up, let's get everything else done." May interjects. We all nod, and begin to work on some actual decorating.

Five minutes later, the table is on fire, and Wigglytuff is swinging from the chandelier.

Explain to me how this happened.

Evidently, no one has a clue, as Squirtle gets rid of the fire, and we just ignore Wigglytuff. As usual, that's a big mistake, since now six knives are now embedded in the wall.

Eevee is playing in the champange fountain, and getting totally soused. I find this funny, but Kya does not, and plucks her out before further harm can come to the alcoholic-in-training.

I realize there's one thing we haven't done; gotten Vita to attend.

"How are we gonna summon her?" I ask to no one in particular. Wigglytuff snaps his fingers.

"I got it!" He draws a circle in pink marker. Very solemnly, he places a bottle of Jack Daniel's in the middle.

"_O GREAT DRUNKEN SKY KITTEN, WE SUMMON THEE!!" _He roars, saluting the sky.

Well, it might work.

Or you know what else could work?

If I _kill myself_.

(And I end it there. Almost done. Extra long chapter, next time.)


	3. Okay, awwwwww

(Yes, Harley's a crossdresser. You know what? Fuck it. Seriously. That boy is a goddamn Coordinator, and he has every damn right to be flamboyant. Because. Don't own.

The Damned One out. )

Before I can drown myself in the champagne fountain, I hear a blast of trumpets, and a voice resonates. "_**BEHOLD, YE MORTALS, THE GLORY OF THE HEAVENLY CREATOR!"**_

Vita's eyes are bloodshot, and she's holding her head in obvious pain. "_Cut the shit, would you?" _She growls at the voice. "_**RIGHT! SORRY!" **_The voice booms, then all is silent.

"_Forgive George, he's new." _She sighs. "_So whaddup?" _May and Drew are staring at the hungover Mew. "Right. This is Vita, the Mew who turned me into a human." They're still a bit bemused at the fact that this Mew is a very alcohol-addicted little glitch.

"We're getting married_." _I tell her. She blinks. "_All three of you? I thought only two people could get married..." _I roll my eyes. "No, me and Harley." She seems to remember.

"Right! So, I presume I'll be presiding over the ceremonies?" She drawls, taking a sip from the fountain. Read; she covers the spout with her mouth, and her cheeks are now hamster-like. I roll my eyes.

Well, Wigglytuff did kill the preacher.

So, yes, what else could I say? "Of course you can, Vita."

Yes, we're all screwed.

Meanwhile, Harley is at work making the cake... let's go to him, shall we?

"STUPID FUCKING OVEN!!"

...Or, we could not.

-_Harley's POV-_

Man, do I really hate our oven right now. It just chipped my nail. See, I was carrying the cake pan over, and I almost dropped it, and now, now, the stupid thing hit my nail, and the hour-long manicure was RUINED!!!!

Well, it can't get much worse. Unless, you know, I burn the cake or something. I feel a burst of 'cliche-fic-dilemma' coming on, and instantly check the oven. Golden brown.

Take _that_, authoress!

I take the cake gently out of the oven, until I realize the searing pain in my hands is from the cake pan, not the heater. Not good. "Son of a bitch!" I wail, dropping the cake pan. It clatters on the counter, but is thankfully not ruined. What now!?!

Calmly, I take the cake out, and frost it gently. I am so awesome.

It's about five fucking tiers, because I want to get high off sugar, if nothing else. The frosting is immaculate, a cream colored fluffy monstrosity. I grin, and revel in my superior cooking skills.

Then, of course, I realize I have to find a way to get this to the hall. I sigh. "Oh, fuck, I need a drink." I groan. Deciding against being inebriated, I rushed back to the hall. A pink sky kitten was cheering on May's Eevee as she got incredibly fucking drunk.

"That's gonna fuck her liver up, real bad." I state calmly, picking up the little fox. "May, here's your psycho back!" I toss Eevee at her, and turn to the drunken kitten. "Well, what are you doing here?" I ask.

She takes a swig from the bottle of rum in her paw. "_Cacturne didn't tell you? I'm hitching you guys." _

Actually, I think I need that drink.

_-Cacturne's POV-_

Harley seems a bit peeved about Vita. "Well," I remind him, "Wigglytuff did kill that preacher. So we're screwed otherwise." He shrugs.

"I know, I know. Look, everything's set up. Let's go home, okay?" We all agree, and head home, May and Drew with a newly hungover Eevee.

As I close the door, Harley races into the closet. "Look, I finished it!" He squeals, yanking out a dress.

But not an ordinary dress.

It's gorgeous. The overlaying muslin is a light lavender, and—

Almost on cue, Wigglytuff flamethrowers that dress into oblivion. Harley drops the ash-covered cloth to the floor, and pivots. Hands on hips, he begins shrieking at Wigglytuff, who has no idea just what he did wrong.

"It's fucking RUINED!" He wails, and I can see Wigglytuff actually looks pained. Harley IS his trainer, after all. He sniffs. "Isn't FAIR." He pouts. I sigh.

"Honey, it doesn't matter. Look, we've got some fancy crap in the closet; we'll make something out of that, okay?" He sniffs, and hugs me tight.

"See, this is why I love you. You're so collected, and I'm an idiot..." He's flipping out a bit now. I hug him, and then kiss him softly. "No, no, you're not an idiot. Don't cry, we can fix this..."

However, Wigglytuff already had it covered. An hour later, he holds up a new dress. "_Well? Am I awesome, or am I awesome?" _He cheers. It's actually really pretty. A light purple, again, and the top is tight-fitting, and a gorgeous shade of violet.

"Make mine." I order him. He huffs. "_I didn't flamethrower yours, did I?" _I swivel my head, and glare at him for a good ten minutes, until he sighs. ""_Yeah yeah, I'm on it..." _

I wait the entire week for him to quit bitching and complaining about making this thing, and surprisingly, I am saved by Sarah. She slams Wigglytuff with a frying pan, and orders him to get to work. The night before the wedding, it's done.

Go, Sarah. You crazy mother, you.

The next morning, I am finally outfitted in something comfortable. Goody. It's a black pantsuit, and not at all stupid looking. "_I am so good_." Wigglytuff cheers himself. I roll my eyes, and head to the kitchen.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." He flips me off, and I can't help but laugh. Friggin' psycho. "Harley!" I yell. He stumbles into the kitchen, and falls over, slumping onto the table.

"I have to get up?" He whines. I glare at him.

"You wanna get married, or not?" I don't get an answer. He's asleep on the table.

I shove him off, ignore the indignant shriek, and pour myself a cup of coffee. He's my partner, not my god. I can shove him off a table if I damn well feel like it.

He yanks me out of the house, and at about twelve o'clock, we're racing down the street, nine pokemon following us, and we're still in our pajamas.

Please, would someone explain to me how I got screwed over with this life?

I look up. "Harley, wait! The door—" He slams into the closed door, and stumbles back a good ten feet. "Ow, pain." He hisses. Rolling my eyes, I drag him inside.

Every. Single. Goddamn. One. OF _**THEM.**_

"Oh, fuck, it's the brats." Harley whispers, terrified. Harley's ten brothers and sisters. Yes, you read that right.

Vita's getting her tail yanked on by Jade and Maxine, and she doesn't look too happy. I don't blame her. "Octazooka." Harley orders Octillery, and he walks off, as the brats squeal at being soaked in ink.

"This... is, well..." Drew notes, sweeping an eye over the kids, Sarah, and friend's we've—okay, MAY has made, since both Harley and Drew are antisocial bastards, and I think we're ready to go, until I am slapped over the head, and dragged away by Sarah.

"WEDDING TRADITION!" She roars, before stuffing me into the coat closet.

Did I ever mention I really hate my life?

Because I do.

So goddamn _much_.

Ah, well. Let it alone, right? Except it smells REALLY FRIGGIN AWFUL in here. Like mothballs, or something. WTF?

See, HARLEY'S lucky. He's out there—

I hear a crash, and scream, and then a swift silence.

Okay, maybe not so lucky.

About an hour later, Drew frees me from my mothless prison. "Bless you, good sir." I groan. He just shakes his head, and smiles. This time, I'm back, in front of the makeshift balcony-thing we covered in spray-paint and Silly String.

Vita is waiting up with Harley, and he grins sheepishly at me as I walk up. "_Dearly fuckin' beloved, we're heeere today to... somethin', uh... LINE!" _She roars into the wings.

"Hold your horses, ya alcoholic!" I see a girl with pink-and-black hair march out angrily, shove some papers into Vita's paws, and march back out. "Who was that?" I ask Vita. She rolls her eyes, but Harley answers.

"The authoress. The crazy girl who's responsible for all this crap." I blink, but Vita's already continued.

"_So, yeah. We gather here today to hitch these two together, forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ev—_" A shoe comes flying out from the halls, and whacks Vita in the head.

"_Fuck! Okay! Bitch. Anyways, so; do you, Harley Davidson, the gayest man in the anime INEXPLICABLY named after a goddamn MOTORCYCLE, take Cacturne to be your pokemon-wedded partner_?" He looks at me, and for the first time in this entire ceremony, I feel like we've got an ounce of seriousness in it. Wow.

"Yeah. I do." All is silent. "_Cue 'awwww_...'" Wigglytuff cheers. Vita waves the paper.

"_But it's not in my LINES_!!" She roars. I am fed up.

"Okay, yes, I take Harley for eternity and all that, now CAN WE PLEASE GET THIS OVER WITH!?!" I shriek. I grab Harley by the shoulders, and yank him into a kiss. "Awwww..." Vita slurs, and takes a swing of champange.

"_Right. They're married... get drunk! On wine, poetry, goodness—_" I stop her, and turn. "Please yourself." (1) My shoe snags on the hem of Harley's dress, and—

Eyes still closed, I whisper in horror, "How bad?" He giggles. "I look like a French maid!" I sigh. Great. "But you said please yourself, and—"

I turn around, kiss him, and swing him up into my arms. Pulling away, I growl, "Shut up." And march out.

I figure they're all getting drunk at the afterparty. Hell, no one probably notices we're missing.

I take his hand, and we walk silently to the lighthouse at the edge of town. I smile. "You can see the sunset from here." He turns to me.

"I'd rather look at you." He tugs at my hair, and pulls me into a soft, slow, kiss. This time, no one's complaining we're not breathing, this time...

It's just us.

Forever and ever, now.

(END! Awwwww... –takes breath- awwwwww... so cute! Okay, the one note is the line Vita says is from a poem by Charles Baudelaire. I love his work.)


End file.
